Eternal: Azriel

Chapter Nine

"I was dead," Feyre says roughly. "I was dead, and then I was reborn—remade."

Elain set her cup on the table, amber liquid splashed over the side, pooling in the saucer.

Feyre held Nesta's gaze as she spoke. "I need you to listen."

We stayed silent, listening to what she had to say next. Then she began. Telling us of all her adventures and challenges that she faced the past year.

"Feyre." I let out, shocked from how much she's been through. I thought I had it hard because I couldn't understand myself. But while I was here, she was out there suffering.

She gave me a fake smile in response to her name. She continued to explain about needing the house.

Elain spoke first. "You—you want other High Fae to come ... here. And ... and the Queens of the Realm."

She nods slowly.

"Find somewhere else," Nesta says.

Feyre gives her a pleading look.

"Nes, this is important to her. Maybe—" I try to convince her. I want to help Feyre. She finally came back and we are sending her away.

"Find somewhere else," Nesta says again, straight-backed.

"I don't want them in my house. Or near Elain and Athy."

"Nesta, please," She breathes. "There is nowhere else; nowhere I can go without someone hunting me, crucifying me—"

"And what of us? When the people around here learn we're Fae sympathizers? Are we any better than the Children of the Blessed, then? Any standing, any influence we have—gone. And Elain's wedding—"

"Wedding," Feyre blurts.

"In five months," Nesta says. "She's marrying a lord's son. And his father has devoted his life to hunting down your kind when they cross the wall. So there will be no meeting here. There will be no Fae in this house."

"Do you include me in that declaration?" Feyre says quietly. Nesta's silence was answer enough.

"Nesta," Elain speaks out.

"Nesta," Elain says again, twisting her hands. "If ... if we do not help Feyre, there won't be a wedding. Even Lord Nolan's battlements and all his men, couldn't save me from ... from them." Nesta didn't so much as flinch.

Elain pushes, "We keep it secret—we send the servants away. With the spring approaching, they'll be glad to go home. And if Feyre needs to be in and out for meetings, she'll send word ahead, and we'll clear them out. Make up excuses to send them on holidays. Father won't be back until the summer, anyway. No one will know. Feyre gave and gave—for years. Let us now help her. Help ... others."

"Come on, Nes. She needs us and this could be a good thing. Feyre's back, we can at least give her this," I add, meeting Nesta's gaze.

Her chin lifted slightly. "We'll send the servants away tomorrow."

"Today," Feyre pushes. "We don't have any time to lose. Order them to leave now."

"I'll do it," Elain said, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders. She didn't wait for either of us before she strode out, graceful as a doe.

Once she is gone, Feyre continues to speak, "Is he good—the lord's son she's to marry?"

"She thinks he is. She loves him like he is."

"And what do you think?"

"His father built a wall of stone around their estate so high even the trees can't reach over it. I think it looks like a prison."